Steele a Touch of Christmas English
by functional
Summary: I just thought German might hardly be anyone's preferred language so I tried to translate a part of it. Please be kind and excuse my language-deficiencies and let me know if you want to read more and if it is worth the effort of translating the thing. Thx
1. Chapter 1

Steele a touch of Christmas

Happily whistling Laura Holt paid a lot of attention to her looks, standing in her bathroom and drying her long, brunette hair. Since her boss, Remington Steele showed up and became a real person, work in her agency was still quite stressing, but, in a very special way, agitating. The never-ending tension and improving chemistry between her and Mr. Steele eased some of her anxieties and she became more and more self-confident and easy-going. In many cases she could rely upon Mr. Steele's entirely different point of view and ease some of her strain. Even her family could tell, since never before they met as often and things just went as a matter of course. She managed to get out of the emotional dead-end she had manoeuvered herself into. This day was her opportunity to say thank you for all the good his presence and attention did to hear. She had made a reservation at his favourite restaurant and, well, maybe this would turn out just to be the day… He did not yet know about it, it was her intention to give him a last- minute surprise.

So pleasant anticipation enlightened her mood, even early in the morning. She put aside her hair-dryer and critically observed her face in the mirror and was quite satisfied with her appearance. But all of a sudden something seemed to disturb her idyll. A strange odor? She thought she could smell a faint scent of sweat. Confusedly she started to turn around, when a masculine arm rudely grabbed her throat.

"Just another 122 days till christmas, pretty girl!" a hoarse voice whispered into her ear. Quickly she tried to recognize the voice, connecting it with the disturbingly unpleasant masculine scent. Cold sweat started running down her back when something soft touched her mouth and nose, consuming all her senses and she passed out into the arms of the intruder.

Mildred always loved the 30 minutes before the agency came to life in the morning. It gave her enough time to prepare for the day. She made coffee, delivered the newspaper to Mr. Steele's desk and prepared the coffee-mugs for everyone. It won't be long before Mrs. Holt would arrive, she was pretty early and always called in advance should there be any delays. But this morning was different.

When Mr. Steele arrived at the office, he was pretty surprised that Laura was not immersed in her paperwork as usual. But he was not yet concerned. He took his coffee and the newspaper and prepared himself for the daily tasks. Summer in L. A. took it's toll. Summer slump in it's perfection. Reading the L. A. Morning Post became more and more boring every day, the actual news incredibly marginal. He could not help a bored yawn. The summer, the heat, the closeness – he still could not understand the reason Mrs. Holt denied his request to close the whole agency for two or three weeks. There was nothing going on, especially nothing that required the attention of California's most famous and ingenious sleuth. Hawaii, Fidji, the Mediterranean, just a few suggestions he had made and had been rejected. Relaxed he rested his feet on his desk, the still unread newspaper in his hand, wondering about Mrs. Holt's whereabouts. By now she probably had realized that there was nothing but heat and boredom and took her time. Very understandable.

The heat of the summer made everything going it's own pace. The aircondition cooled down the temperature in Remington Steele's office to a comfortable 65°F, but this fact did not change his bored-relaxed mood. Little did he know that his world was about to completely turn over in a matter of a few seconds. Idly scanning through the newspaper he suddenly jumped up like something had scared the hell out of him. "Prisoner escaped", one of the headlines read. But more than that he was terrified by the corresponding picture. Within his career as a private investigator he had dealt with many people ignoring or bending the law in any possible direction, but no one had ever given him so much angst, panic and pain. He was looking right into the face of Anthony Delgetti, who had been sentenced to jail twice because of Remington Steele's whit and knowledge.

Laura's absence became an entirely different meaning, according to these circumstances. He never ever before felt so concerned, worried, frightened. He was scared to death. All of a sudden his panicking thoughts were disturbed by a scream and strange noises outside his office. Before he could check out what happened the door to his office opened and Mildred came in. Her face pallid, moving stiffly and with a gun pointed at her temple. With a shocked expression she glanced at her boss. "No. Wrong. Movement", a husky voice warned. Before he had a chance to look at the intruder, Remington Steele felt an ice-cold shiver running down his spine. He had already met a lot of criminals, some of them dangerous, some of them pretending to be so, some of them more or less persistent, some of them certainly daft. But no other person ever left him as frightened as the man who now held his secretary as a hostage. Right in front of his eyes he had the ghost of the Christmas past – Dancer, better know as Anthony Delgetti. "Now, Brunhilde", he threatened Mildred. "Don't even think of moving in a wrong direction or I will use you for target-practice." He pushed Mildred onto a sofa and with a swift movement of his gun ordered Remington Steele to sit right next to her. "So, pretty face, I sincerely hope you'll behave better this time. You caused me a lot of trouble the last time, now you'll pay back. I'm not in the mood for jail any longer and decided to start all over in Argentina. I haven't found enough reasons for the authorities to agree yet, so I'll do it my way. So first I need cash – 250.000 $ should be o.k. to begin with. And second- you will get me over the Mexican border. Today, if you want to have Brunhilde unharmed." He emphasized his words with his gun, holding it to her temples again. "Boss", Mildred mourned desperately, "please, do something!" Carefully Mr. Steele got up and raised his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. "Look, dancer, even if I was willing to assist you, where do you think I can get a quarter of a million bucks all of a sudden? Leave Mildred alone, kill me instead if you are in need to kill someone."

"Don't worry, nothing will happen to Brunhilde. As long as you do what I say. We will find a nice place for Brunhilde. And if that should not be enough- I'm lucky to still have an ace in the hole – another hostage." With this words he took a strand of brunette hair out of his pocket. "Pretty girl. I like pretty girls. Would be too sad, if she had to die!" The sight of Laura's hair in Dancer's hand brought Remington Steele to the verge of madness. Haggardly he tried to attack Delgetti, who again used Mildred as a shield. "Stay put, pretty face", he commanded. "Remember Brunhilde, remember your pretty assistant and don't lose your temper. Sit. Down.!" Remington Steele collapsed back on to the couch. Laura's life was endangered, Mildred had a gun pointed to her head by a psychopath. Momentarily his situation was even complicated by a complete lack of inspiration. But Dancer knew what he was up to. "Very well, pretty face. Then we can talk about the next step. Brunhilde will have a nice place in the closet, until everything went to my satisfaction." He handed some tape to Mr. Steele and ordered him to tie Mildred's hands and feet and to gag her. "Tightly!" he yelled, when he saw Mr. Steele hesitating. Roughly Dancer shoved her into her prison. "And don't even try to escape", he advised Remington Steele, "it would be your end. And now you'll get me the money." He took the weapon from Mildred's head and rudely jerked it into the detective's ribs. Dancer closed the door to the closet with his foot. Nobody would come to look for her in there, her life was as much in danger as the lives of Laura Holt and Remington Steele.


	2. Chapter 2

„So now, pretty face, let's get down to the financial part. I already thought you won't have that much money around so I came up with something. You will rob a bank for me. First Pacific Bank has a branch at the road leading to the Interstate southbound. You can use this paperbag as a disguise so that nobody will recognize you. Well. Now let's get down to the parking garage and look for a suitable car, your vintage car isn't useful for anything."

Dancer's gun pressing into his back they used the elevater to get into the parking garage, where a reasonable amount of decent cars was parked. Delgetti spontaneously decided to use a Mercedes SL with tinted windows. Not quite new and maybe less suspicious than other cars. Mr. Steele broke into the vehicle and bypassed it. As ordered he went on to the bank branch Delgetti had mentioned before. Dancer kept telling him, what to do and what not to do. With the paperbag on his head nobody would recognize him. A waterpistol had to be sufficient as a weapon, he was not supposed to say anything, just hand over a note telling the clerks what to do. Dancer himself would wait in the car and to disguise he was using the Santa Claus – beard, he had used for his illegal activities before.

Mr. Steele had no other possibility. His defilade was ridiculous, the stolen car would be recognized, the bank robbery filmed by the security cameras. Even a not too bright patrolman would immediately have his tracks. But a few years in jail was nothing compared the ordeal Laura and Mildred had to go through, should he fail. He denied himself any destructive thought. Without looking to either side he entered the bank, put his note on the counter, made impressive movements with the water pistol and against all the odds- succeeded. The bills in another paperpag, the ran out of the bank, jumped into the car, floored the accelerator and sped southward. "See, it's working!" Delgetti shouted sarcastically. „Part one went according to our plan. Now you get me over the border, get me into San Pedro and if everything goes well, you are rid of me before nightfall."

To get over the border without trouble they stopped somewhere near San Diego to "get" new license plates for the stolen car. Delgetti hid on the floor behind the driver's seat, Steele had to cover him with a blanket. Delgetti didn't take his eyes off Steele, the gun constantly pointed to Steele's back. The controls leaving the US were quite slack and nobody would get suspicious, so Dancer hoped.

No matter what he did- it would prove wrong anyways, Remington Steele realized. Armed bank robbery, car theft, assisting a con-man to get out of the country, covering up for different crime - Remington Steele was used to bending the law according to his own needs, but that was too much for him. To get Delgetti out of reach of the justice- no way he could get along with that. He had at least to try.

When he saw the frontier post, he approached slowly, just to speed up spontaneously. Dust raised, the tires squealed and blocked, when he abruptly hit the brake, just in front of the toll bar. "Dammit, man, what the *** are you doing!" Delgetti shouted from the back and fired a shot into the air. Steele snatched the steering wheel and hit the frontier post. The impact caused his head to hit the steering wheel and he sat there with glassy eyes. Delgetti saw his chances, grabbed the money and ran. In the chaos created by all the mess he managed to get off. Patrolmen's rough hands got Steele out of the car, he tried to defend himself but all he got was some blows on his head and back and he finally found himself sitting in a cell, his hands handcuffed behind his back. The border patrol was used to incidents and the facilities equipped accordingly.

Desperately Steele tried to get the officer's attention. He was aware he had a lot to explain and wanted to get done with it as soon as possible, so that Laura and Mildred would not have to suffer any longer. But either nobody could hear him or he was just ignored. After a while which seemed to him like eternity the police arrived and took him with them. One of the officers told him his rights and Steele tried to tell them his story.

„Be careful what you admit, Mister", he was warned. "You are in so deep into trouble, I'd wait for a lawyer." Steele's head hurt, his lips were dry and cracked and even trying to talk hurt. And since nobody would listen anyways, it was probably better to stay silent.


	3. Chapter 3

He was brought to the San Diego penitentiary. There he was fingerprinted, forced to undress, searched from head to toe. There was not an orifice that was not touched, poked and inspected. He got an orange colored overall made off some stiff cotton cloth. When he was re-dressed he got a chain around his waist, his hands cuffed to the chain and his feet were shackeled. Finally, packaged like a hardcore felon he was manhandled through long hallways, constantly stumbling in his restraints. His clothes were confiscated and Remington Steele was locked away in a cell, where he got lost in his desperate thoughts. It was already late in the evening and the questioning would not take place until the next morning.

He could not believe it. He had always considered the United States being a constitutional state, where the authorities had to prove his guilt before he could be sentenced. Here it seemed to be the opposite. He knew how hard a policeman's job could be. Constantly being exposed to the bad part of human existence was not easy. Of course he was guilty of some maledictions, but nobody was hurt, he could even prevent worse, if they would just listen to him! He kept banging at the door, getting louder and more and more impatient, until finally two guards entered.

„Pray to God or what ever you belive in, that you can offer a good reason fort he row you are making. Otherwise we will show you what it means to be annoying around here!" Again Steele started to explain: "Please, that's so important, please listen to me, my secretary…" He could not speak any further. The guards entered his cell and cornered him. One of them took him by his jaw and knocking his head hard against the concrete wall. "You rotten criminal son of a ***, now just be very, very grateful I won't knock out all of your teeth. Don't you dare disturbing our work here once again or you will pay for it!" A rough blow to Steele's face emphasized his announcement. His colleague assisted him in restraining Steele again, in the same fashion as before and ruggedly shoved him onto the floor. "And just in case you should dare to ever open your mouth again, better number your bones before, so that you can put yourself together again after we grilled you." With these words the guards left his cell. All his begging and whimpering to make a testimony right now was neglected.

Steele was not able to get up from the floor again so he had to spend the night sitting on the floor, frightened with worry and fear for the lives of two people who meant a lot to him. He hardly ever before was able to trust anyone. Laura had helped him out of his self-induced separation, taught him to love, share and trust and gain a positive attitude toward his life and the people around him. Even Mildred, who in his opinion way to often barged into their relationship- he would miss her constant mothering. Now she had to spend the Night in the closet, uncomfortably, gagged and restrained. Compared to this his condition was almost luxurious. A bad conscience added to his worries. He did not even dare to think about what could have happened to Laura. Delgetti was reckless, calculating and not giving a damn about the lives of those standing in his way. Steele still could not believe nobody would listen to him, that even every time he started to talk he was treated more and more reckless. He was definitely not working on his best today, but what could he have done differently without risking either Mildred's or Laura's life? He was not even able to help Mildred!


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for reading and reviewing. Here is the end. Sorry it took so long, but I was all busy last week. I'm afraid my English is horribly, but I did not want to keep you waiting.

I have some more stories I wrote a couple of years ago (in German), if you want to read them I can post them (and translate them one day).

Robert Delano always had an unusual love for his job as a district attorney. Though he had a lot of people in his clientele that not were trustworthy or sympathetic, he always harboured the feeling to serve and support justice and humanity on the one hand and the law and government, that are necessary for a healthy society, on the other hand. He thought justice and humanity as the highest virtues and paid a lot of attention to pay every prisoner or accused person, no matter what the crime, the due respect. He despised arrogance or presumption shown by police or prison guards. In the morning he just had a few minutes to look through the new cases and what he read about the Steele-case gave him a pain in his stomach. He wanted to be present when Steele was heared, but unfortunately an emergency made it impossible.

After a long and sleepless night two prison guards took Steele from his cell. They rudely grabbed him by his arms and dragged him to the office, where he was to be interrogated. In his shackles Steele was hardly able to keep up and was stumbling uneasy in between the guards. He knew he would have bruises from their hard grip. But secretly he was relieved. Finally someone would listen to him, Mildred could be released and Laura might be found. He could get a lawyer and concentrate on how to get out of this malaise with as little damage as possible. A lawyer would understand and had other possibilities than he had as a suspect.

But first he was interrogated in a small, bad smelling office. Smoking laws seemed not to apply in Southern California. The strong smell made Steele feel dizzy. Two police officers in civilian clothes were present. Hope is always the last thing to give up, so Steele thought. But this time it seemed everything had turned against him. Within a pocket of his jacket the policemen arresting him the day before had found a key to a locker at Union Station in Los Angeles. Dancer must have put it there in an unobserved moment. When Steele was arrested, the locker was opened- and Laura Holt was found in there. Alive, but barely so. She almost ran out of oxygen and Laura, drugged and unconscious was now in a comatose state. So he had added kidnapping, assault and attempted murder to his offences. The officers seemed to hear just what they wanted to hear and proved to be quite prejudiced. Mr. Steele's statements were not what they expected to hear and they kept on questioning. Sometimes they appeared friendly, to coax him into a confession. But when he started telling his story all over again, they got rougher and rougher. They blew cigarette-smoke in his face and blinded him with the desk light. His hands and feet were still chained and never ever before in his live Remington Steele had felt nearly as desperate and helpless.

At noontime, when the officers went out for lunch he got a little break. His stomach was empty and rumbling hungrily, but Steele did not even realize he did not have any food since breakfast the previous day, when his life was still worth living. He was exhausted. In his life he had had a lot of unpleasant and unfair encounters, but never before he was humiliated and degraded like this. And things got even worse. After lunch break there the officers shifted. A well-known face appeared in Remington Steele's range of vision. "Ddddetective Jarvis", he stuttered nervously. "Quite a surprise, isn't it?" Jarvis barked at him. „I came down all the way from L. A., just for you. And I won't leave you, until you confessed your crime and can be punished appropriately. You know- I'm at homicide. Maybe you'll figure out what that means for you. Well, if you are lucky enough you will get accused and convicted just for second degree murder. This could prevent you from being electrocuted. But now come on, make things easier for you, trust me, you will feel better." Remington Steele's face lost what was left of color. "But – murder – Laura – who – why – is she dead …" he babbled. "See – you know exactly what I am talking about" Jarvis added proud of himself. "Come on, a confession is always a sign of cooperation, it will help you in court." Panicking, angry beyond anything Steele tried to get up to fight Jarvis, slap him, yell at him in his desperation, cry out his despair. But his knees denied their support. He had not eaten for too long a time, running on way too high levels of adrenaline for too long, was exhausted from the lack of sleep. He forgot about his chains, lost balance and fell, as it seemed to him, forever. He did not even mind and did not even try to regain his balance. If this was the end, well, then let it be. Without Laura his life did not seem worth anything. His unconscious caught some impressions of his life, beautiful moments, came to his mind. He forgot about the pain and agony of the last 24 hours. He fell and fell as it seemed into eternity, and since he had no use of his hands he hurt his forehead when he finally hit the ground.

He had no desire to come back to a reality, unpleasant as could be and into the questioning. Tensely his brain clung to memories. Meeting Laura the first time. The first kiss. Her smell, her chocolate-brown eyes. Her voice with the soft timbre. Dancing around a tree in the sunshine, she looked so beautiful. He wanted to hold her, not willing to release her ever again.

But it didn't work out. The power dragging him back was to strong. A constantly repeating sound disturbing him. Someone hit his cheek. Not too hard, but hard enough for him to realize. "Mr. Steele, come on, open your eyes. Mr. Steele, look at me, please Mr. Steele, open your eyes, yes, very good, go on, look at me… " the voice continued. "Yes, very good, much better!" he was praised when he looked at the man kneeling next to him on the floor. Someone had put a blanket under his head to make it more comfortable for him and opened the window. Remington Steele took a deep breath and lifted his head. Through the slowly lifting fog he saw a middle-aged man, dark blond but balding, looking at him full of worries through rimless glasses. A strong arm supported his back and helped him to sit up. Someone held a glass of water to his lips and advised him to sip carefully. "Welcome back, you'll feel much better soon", the stranger greeted him. "But let me introduce myself first. My name is Robert Delano, I am the district attorney here. Unfortunately I could not attend the interrogation this morning, but I did not even think it would end up like this. The colleague who came down from L. A. did not present himself in a professional way. Please accept my apologies."

Remington Steele could concentrate on nothing but on Laura's alleged death. "Laura" he kept stuttering haggardly. "It was not me, I did not kill her!"

„Of course you did not kill her. Detective Jarvis just wanted to pressure a confession out of you. This is highly unprofessional and he will have to face the consequences. But that's not something for you to worry about. Miss Holt is getting better by the minute and released you with her testimony. She was already released from the hospital. And there are even more good news in store for you. There is not much we can hold against you. There is no reason to keep you here any longer. Please stay in Los Angeles for the next couple of days, we still have to investigate further and we will stay in touch with you."

Meanwhile someone had removed his chains and covered the gash on his head with a band aid. But there was something still heavily lingering on his soul. "Mildred. Mildred Krebs, our secretary. Delgetti locked her into the closet in my office, she's probably still in there! Please, believe me!" Delano quickly called the Century Plaza security and relieved Mr. Steele of his final worry and helped him up. He got his clothes back and a cab brought him back to L. A. Two policemen were ordered to take care of his security around the clock, since Delgetti was known of someone who would not fool around but hit and kill.

Driving back took longer than he had thought. Steele used the occasion to finally get some of the sleep he missed the night in jail. The driver had to wake him up when he arrived at the apartment building in Rossmore Avenue. It was evening and starting to get dark. Dizzily he staggered into the building, into his apartment. He felt empty and lonely. He would call Laura immediately, and Mildred, his need of company was almost unbearable. He felt unable to cope with himself and his thoughts all alone. But first of all he had to bring himself into a more representable state. He and his clothes appeared worse for wear and he desperately longed for a long, hot shower.

Opening the door to his apartment and entering he was flooded by relief and gratefulness. His world was still working, life would go on, for him, for Laura, for Mildred. Consumed he used the wall for a support and closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he felt ready to face Laura and Mildred and telling them what happened to him. He did not hear someone approaching him, but he felt a soft hand touching his face. Laura looked at him, her eyes full of worries. "You look quite beaten" she muttered. „Are you sure you are alright, Mr. Steele?" Hearing Laura's voice his knees threatened to give way once again. Laura gently guided him to a seat. Carefully touching the wound on his forehead she asked "Was it Dancer, the slimy bastard?" Steele negated and told his part of the story. When he told them what happened to him in jail Mildred and Laura showed their embarrassment.

Finally Remington Steele took the opportunity to take a shower. Indulging into the warmth of the water and the exclusive and elegant scent of his shower gel he could rid himself of some of the traces of the past, horrible hours. He felt much better, finally sitting on his couch, flanked by Laura and Mildred. They did not talk much but took the vicinity of the friends as a healing comfort. Mildred and Laura were asked to stay at his apartment for a few days, so that the police could look after their security more easily.

Meanwhile the police focused on tracing Dancer. Since it was known he planned on starting all over in Southern America there was at least a rough direction. But it proved not to be easy, since Dancer had a reasonable sum of cash with him and most of the possible countries were not run on the same legal and security laws. But luck – in Dancer's case pity – was with them. Delgetti did not get far. The same day he had kidnapped Laura and Steele he fell in the darkness and broke both his legs. And even a hard guy as Delgetti was did not get far without being able to walk or run. It took a while until he was rescued by local farmers and brought into a hospital. And it took another while until all authorities were informed and the police in San Diego was informed. Delgetti still had all the money with him, all his excuses were useless.

For Remington Steele and his girls the days in his apartment seemed to stretch into eternity. It was not easy for them to spend so long a time in so little space, not being able to leave the house. So it was no surprise for Robert Delano to see the happiness in their faces when on the third day he paid them a visit to tell them what had happened in the meantime. He apologized once again for everything that went wrong back in San Diego. But the joy they felt when they learned about Dancer being arrested and having their freedom back was so strong, they did not feel vengeful at all.

Delgetti was transported into a special security penitentiary where he did not only have to serve his previous sentence but to wait for his next trial. There was no way he would be out again within the next twenty years and there was absolutely no way to get out of this jail

When Remington Steele got to know that Detective Jarvis was degraded because of his malpractice and had to stamp passports at the very post that was destroyed by Remington Steele, he could not hide his pleasure. That's probably what you call "irony of fate".

Remington Steele did not have to face any consequences and even better- there was a bounty on Dancer's head and part of it was paid to the three of them as compensation money. Prospectively Remington Steele suggested they could use the money for a little vacation, the Mediterranean or Fiji, for example. Relaxing a little, spending days on the beach, listening to the tides and the wind in the palm trees, enjoying the white sand and the blue sea. As always, Laura turned down his attempt. "Sounds promising, Mr. Steele. But due to our absence there is a whole load of work to be done at the agency, there is a lot to be taken care of. But you are a free man and free to do whatever you feel like doing." Said it and left the room.

Pushing his baggage cart through the departure lounge of LAX Airport two days later, he could not trust his luck. After first feeling pushed back by Laura he felt not very much like travelling on his own. But fortunately Mildred was able to find a solution. "Boss, I am quite happy with your suggestion, but you know, three is a party and you and Miss Holt need the time to sort out things. In the meantime I will take care of the agency. Trust me, I'm able to handle it all alone for a couple of days." Mr. Steele had never doubted that, but he could not imagine how Mildred should get Laura into joining him on a vacation. But even people like Mildred Krebs had their secrets and success is the only thing that counts afterwards. Waiting for their flight to the Bahamas with Laura, Mr. Steele felt lucky like never before.


End file.
